


The Cocky Horror Show

by Bunnywest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 10:05:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14714015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Stiles is never letting Lydia pick his Halloween costume ever again. Never ever.





	The Cocky Horror Show

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little bit of fun - blame Twisted_Mind for encouraging this foolishness, and for coming up with the ridiculous title, otherwise you'd all be reading something called Cocky Rocky!

 

Stiles adjusts the blond wig for the last time, pulls the gold lame shorts out of the crack of his ass, (definitely not for the last time, crawly little bastards that they are), and hisses, “Remind me to _never_ let you talk me into anything again. I look ridiculous!”

“Oh, stop whining like a big baby, you look perfect.” Lydia tells him. “Now get out of the car. You promised me you’d do this Stiles, so get in there.”

Stiles groans as he gets out of Lydia’s car, but she ignores him completely, too busy reapplying her lipstick. She makes a formidable Columbia, Stiles has to admit.  And he did promise her that he’d dress up for her Rocky Horror themed Halloween party. It’s just when she said she’d take care of his costume, he’d assumed he’d be Brad, not Rocky. At least he’d managed to talk her out of bleaching his hair like she was threatening to do. The trade off had been that she’d collect him to make sure he couldn’t get out of coming.

“Stop fidgeting,” she snaps, and drags him through the door. When they get inside he looks around and sees that although there are plenty of Columbias and Magentas, even a Riffraff or two,  there are no other Rockys. He can’t help but grin at the sight of Scott and Alison, pulling off an impressive Brad and Janet in their underwear.  At least he’s not the only one underdressed.

He spots the back of Derek’s head and taps him on the shoulder, only to give a horrified “Gah!” when Derek turns around. The bleeding gash in his forehead is truly impressive, and Derek looks far too pleased at Stiles’ reaction.

“Eddie, right?” Stiles says once his heartrate’s back under control. Derek nods. Stiles is surprised to see him here, and he asks “What are you even doing here? I thought you’d be too old for this?”

“I like Halloween,” Derek says with a shrug. “And besides, I wouldn’t miss Peter’s costume for anything.”

“Wait, Peter’s coming?” Stiles’ heartrate ratchets up again. It’s bad enough that he’s standing here in tiny gold booty shorts. To be standing here in tiny gold booty shorts when Peter can see him? Just…no. He’s fully aware that his crush on Peter’s one sided, but at least he could always pretend he had a chance before. But if Peter sees him like this? He’ll be a laughing stock, and he can kiss all his fantasies, as well as his dignity, goodbye.

Derek raises a brow at him. “He’s coming later. Wants to make an entrance.” That sounds about right, thinks Stiles. Peter will probably show up in a custom made Dr Scott wheelchair, just for the attention.

Stiles figures he may as well get a few drinks in, and he heads to the bar. It’s good party, with decent music and a seemingly endless supply of shots, and it’s not long before he’s forgotten that he’s semi-naked, and is just enjoying himself, flailing to the music. He dances with anyone and everyone,  busting out a truly impressive Time Warp. He’s having a good time.

Trust Peter to spoil it.

As the music winds down and the next track starts,  Stiles sees Derek glance at his phone and roll his eyes.  He walks over to the door and opens it, only for Peter to step through the door in time to the thrumming bass beat.

Stiles’ jaw drops in shock, because Peter…..Peter is FranknFurter.

He struts in the door, swinging his hips and taking long strides as he sings along _“How d’you do, I see you’ve met my, faithful handyman.”_

Lydia squeals and claps her hands delightedly  at the sight, and Peter tips her a wink as he works his way across the room, stopping in front of her to declare “ _Don’t get strung out by the way I look….”_

Stiles really wishes he could take that advice right now, but nope. The way Peter looks is making his mouth go dry with sheer want, and he knows he’s staring, but he can’t seem to drag his gaze away.

Peter’ _s_ hair, instead of being slicked back to within an inch of its life, has been let loose, and it sits around his face in soft curls that Stiles just wants to run his fingers through. He’s gone for dark, dramatic eyeliner and mascara that make his eyes stand out, and blood red lipstick over the palest of foundations. The goatee should look wrong, but somehow it just makes the whole thing even better.

Stiles has never in his life been attracted to the thought of a man in women’s underwear, figuring it just wasn’t his thing, but he’s rapidly revising that opinion, because the sight of Peter’s broad, tanned chest straining at the laces of a corset makes him want to pull them undone. With his teeth. Combined with the sheer black panties and stockings that encase Peter’s long, muscular legs, and the six inch stripper heels, it’s enough to make Stiles let out a tiny whine without even realizing.

Peter hears it though, and he stops where he’s running his hands down Scott’s bare chest and pivots on the spot. He fixes his gaze on Stiles, and advances towards him, a gleam in his eye. When he gets to where Stiles is standing, he places his hands firmly on Stiles’ hips and pulls him close, even as he sings “ _I’m not much of a man by the light of day, but at night I’m one hell of a lover…”_

He emphasizes the lyrics by rolling his hips against Stiles, who realizes, to his mortification, that he’s hard. Peter notices too, and his expression grows hungry as he rolls his hips again. Stiles closes his eyes, silently praying that Peter doesn’t say anything, and for a wonder, he doesn’t. After one last press of their bodies together, he continues working his way around the room, shimmying against the other guests as he performs, much to their delight. He really does do a fabulous job, so good in fact, that Stiles wonders if he was imagining the want he saw in Peter’s eyes, if it was all part of the act. He won't deny that he'll be disappointed if it was.

By now they’ve nearly reached the end of the song, and Stiles has just about convinced himself it was all in his head when Peter sashays back over to Stiles, gripping his hips again and pulling him near as he whispers “ _Come up to the lab. And see what’s on the slab. I see you shiver with anticip-“_

And then he just walks away, without a backward glance.

Stiles stares after him, but Peter’s left the room.  Bastard.

Lydia’s applauding loudly, as are most of the people in the room. Stiles sees Derek looking at him appraisingly, and he blushes. “Hell of an act. I never knew Peter was a drag queen,” he says lightly.

Derek laughs. “He’s not. He just loves Frank. Says he speaks to him on a spiritual level.”  

Stiles can see that.

“You gonna go find him?” Derek asks, amusement evident in his voice.

“Yeah, no.”

"Why not? Peter likes you, Stiles. He wants you. And that was an invitation if ever I heard one. Now go. You don’t want to spend the whole night shivering with anticip-“

And he walks away.

All Hales are bastards, Stiles decides. Handsome, muscular, teasing bastards. If Peter Hale thinks he can just dance up to him in his stripper heels and fishnets and delicious corset, and rub his body up against Stiles like he has any right to, getting him hard, if he expects Stiles to just drop everything and follow him, follow that firm, muscled ass….

Stiles dashes towards the back of the house where he saw Peter heading, out the door and into the back yard. He looks around and doesn’t see him, but suddenly there are warm, broad hands around his waist and a velvety voice in his ear, murmuring “ -pation.”

Peter draws him into the little alcove around the side of the building and drapes his hands around Stiles’ neck. “Look at you, Stiles. All laid out for me like a feast. You shouldn’t have,” he purrs.

“What makes you think was for you?” Stiles challenges, because he’d like to at least pretend to play hard to get.

“Well this, for a start,” Peter smirks, running a hand over the bulge in Stiles’ tiny shorts. “If this gets much bigger, you’ll split your seams, darling.”

Stiles moans at the touch, all pretence gone. “Fuck, you look hot like this,” he breathes, and Peter rewards him by running his hand up and down over the bulge once more, before leaning in and capturing Stiles’ mouth in a filthy kiss. Stiles kisses him back, desperate and messy. When he finally pulls away, Peter’s eyes have that hungry look again.

“Do you think the lovely Miss Martin will mind us taking over her bedroom? Or shall we take our leave?” Peter asks, slightly breathless. His hips are pressed hard against Stiles’, and they’re grinding against each other instinctively.

“You just got here. Don’t you want to stay for a while?” Stiles pants, hoping like hell that the answer’s no.

Peter nuzzles against his neck and nips lightly at the soft skin there, leaving a trail of lipstick kisses. “Oh, I don’t think so. I got what I came for.”

“You just came to pick up?” Stiles demands, pulling back and feeling a little hurt.

“No, idiot boy. I came for you. I’ve always thought you attractive, and when Lydia told me what you were wearing, I had to see for myself. Now, can we please leave? As fetching as these panties are, they’re not exactly…comfortable right now.”

Stiles glances down and sees that Peter’s not exaggerating. The fabric’s stretched tight around an impressive erection. “Please, Stiles?” Peter asks. “I’ll let you unlace me, peel me out of the stockings, and strip me naked,” he adds with a smirk.

Stiles slides his hands down Peter’s back and cups his ass, pulling him closer before he murmurs “Fuck, yes.”

They slip out the back gate together, blissfully unaware of Derek and Lydia watching them.

“Thank goodness for that,” sighs Lydia. “I couldn’t stand to watch them pine any longer.”

“Mhmm,” Derek agrees. “You’d think a cocky bastard like Peter would be able to get up the nerve to ask someone out, wouldn’t you?”

 


End file.
